


Painting in Red

by not1inamillion



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Completed, F/F, Guard!Lexa, artist!Clarke, no smut sorrynotsorry, polaris au, some fluff for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not1inamillion/pseuds/not1inamillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a one shot I wrote, 'The Artist'</p><p>An au where Polaris launched like it was supposed to, and Lexa is a resident of the Ark.<br/>Clarke has too much time on her hands, which leads to some minor vandalism. Meanwhile, Lexa is a guard who finds herself crushing on 'the Artist', a vandal on the Ark known for her depictions of earth. When the Artist and the Guard cross paths, there is an obvious connection. However, trouble ensues when the work of the Artist sparks a revolution no one anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who recommended I turn 'The Artist' into a full length fic! This should be fun, as I've never written a full length fic before. I hope everyone enjoys, and feedback is always welcome!
> 
> Lexa comes in a little later, so everyone is just going to have to hold their breath in suspense for now.

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke cannot afford to make many more mistakes like this.

It isn’t so much that Abby will scold her for wasting so much paper, but it’s the guilt that she’s consuming limited resources because sometimes she can’t draw a straight line to save her life. Drawing is hard, and she hates that she chose a hobby that’s so wasteful. Why can’t she just be content playing board games with Wells for hours on end?

Clarke crumples up the paper, worn down from the amount of erasing she’s done. It’s so worn down, every time Clarke touches her pencil to the paper, it tears. She reaches for another sheet form her dwindling supply, and tries to concentrate. It shouldn’t be this hard to sketch a building. A majestic skyscraper, like the ones she sees in her old books. But straight lines are hard, and using a ruler feels like cheating. 

Jake interrupts her before she can drive herself crazy for too long. “If you stare at that paper any harder, lasers will shoot out of your eyes and vaporize it,” He teases, the ever-present smile wide on his face. 

Clarke leans back in her chair, matching his grin. “If I intimidate it long enough, maybe it’ll do what I want.”

“Wells was looking for you. He was hanging around the dining hall last I saw him.”

“Did he mention what he wanted?”

“Nope. You should go find him though. Give that piece of paper a break.”

“I was probably just going to see what’s on TV. I thought you’d want to see which soccer game is on.”

“I have to get back to work. I only stopped by for a shower and change of clothes. It looks like it’ll be another all-nighter.”

“I’ll tell mom not to wait up.”

“Be good. Spend some time with Wells. I think he feels neglected.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “This place isn’t that big. He can find me himself.”

Jake rolls his eyes in return, and disappears into the bathroom. Once Clarke hears the water running, she sighs and stands, stretching. She hadn’t realized how long she had been sitting at the desk.She slips her bit of chalk into her pocket, where it belongs. Clarke isn't one to lose things, but she won’t even risk it with her art supplies.

She finds her way to the dining hall, albeit slowly. Wells can wait. He probably just wanted to ask if she needs help with their math homework. He usually did it for her, and she’d do his literature homework in return. They’d usually struggle through Earth Studies and history together, since they were universally accepted as the most interesting.

Clarke finds Wells sitting at a table in the dining hall, playing chess with Raven Reyes, of all people. Abby had mentioned the mechanic prodigy a few times in passing, but Clarke and Wells didn’t really go out of their way to associate with her. The only mechanic Clarke could listen to was Jake, and even that was out of a sense of duty.

Clarke sits in between Raven and Wells, who are seated across from each other at the small table. Wells breaks into a grin as soon as he looks up.

“Hey! Where have you been?” He says. Raven gives her a tight lipped smile in greeting, which Clarke returns out of politeness.

“Around,” She answers vaguely. There’s no need to keep any secrets from Wells, but he doesn’t have to know her every move. He’s too overprotective.

“Raven was just asking if my dad had gotten around to signing all of the mechanic applications, and I invited her to play chess with me until you showed,” Wells explained quickly, before Clarke could ask.

“Are you any good?” Clarke addresses Raven.

“I’m not dumb enough to beat the Chancellor’s son. Wouldn’t want to get floated,” She shoots a coy smile at Wells, who flushes.

“Take the risk. I’m playing winner, and playing me is a lot worse than getting floated.”

Somehow Raven fits well into the dynamic Wells and Clarke had established. She’s snarky and vaguely hostile, which Wells enjoys. Clarke finds her unnecessarily abrasive, but it’s change of pace that she doesn’t mind.

They play and chat all through dinner, right up until curfew. 

“I can walk you home,” Wells offers to Raven once the clock starts getting close to curfew.

Raven purses her lips. “I have a boyfriend.”

Wells rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that. But your place is probably further away from here, and you won’t make it in time for curfew. And you won’t get in trouble if I’m with you.”

“What about Princess Griffin over here?” Raven nudges Clarke, who sneers.

“Oh, please. All the night guards are pretty familiar with me.”

Raven stands, and Wells and Clarke copy. “Well then I guess we should get going.” She nods to Clarke. “Good night.”

Clarke nods in return, and starts the opposite way. Unsurprisingly, the halls are deserted. Curfew must be a lot closer than Clarke had thought. Or maybe it’s already past curfew. At any rate, Clark enjoys walking through the empty halls. She shoves her hands in her pockets, and feels the chalk against her fingers. She had almost forgotten it was there.She continues on, looking at the blank walls.

And then she gets an idea.

The walls are so bare. And chalk isn’t really permanent. The worst that could happen is that some janitor could be burdened to actually do their job for five minutes. If Clarke could make this place feel less like a jail cell…

She rolls the chalk around once in her hand, thinking. And then she gets to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, we get to meet the angst-ridden Lexa! Also the lowly janitor Bellamy Blake- I don't know why that cracks me up. Anyway, enjoy! Feedback is always encouraged!

***Lexa’s POV***

A morning shift is highly irregular for Lexa. She was normally one of the only guards to step up for a night shift, because she didn’t have a family to wake up to. Working at night means she doesn’t have to confront the silence screaming at her to remember past wounds, and sleeping through the day ensures lack of casual interactions.

Yet here she is, walking through the halls at 7 am, on her way to clock in. 

“Woods!” Chief Miller barks, stalking towards her. Lexa halts immediately. She’s fairly certain that she hasn’t broken any rules, but even she isn’t sure anymore. 

“Yes, sir?” She’s sure to adjust her already perfect posture, and makes steady eye contact.

“Were you on patrol last night?” Chief Miller demands.

“No, sir. You are well aware that I have this morning’s shift, and no one does a night and morning back-to-back.” Lexa hopes that doesn’t sound condescending, but it’s a force of habit at times.

“Well take a good, long look at the walls on your way to clocking in. We’re lucky if the janitors have gotten there yet. Mark my words, heads will roll.”

Lexa raises her eyebrows. Her imagination isn’t big enough to try and comprehend what could possibly be written on the walls that has Chief Miller wound so tight. Lexa has only ever seen minor vandalism, children scratching their initials into tables or chairs. She’s almost excited to see what daring individual did so publicly.

There’s no actual hold up in foot traffic, thankfully, but people certainly do slow down when they pass the wall in question. A few do pause, but most try to keep moving, even if they are curious.

Lexa is one of the few who pause. In fact, when she finds the wall, she stands there and stares for quite some time. Lexa can’t bring herself to call it vandalism. It’s too massive, too beautiful. Probably wider than her arm span. And so detailed.

There’s dark trees streaking the walls, leaves curling and falling. The moon hangs high above, full and radiating, even in the simple black and white sketch. There’s flowers near the bottom, and a river trailing across one side. It looks too real, like the water might actually be running. Lexa’s eyes begin to hurt from looking at it for too long.

Someone has drawn the earth, alive and vibrant like it used to be. Like it should be, before the radiation. A mournful longing for what once was.

Lexa almost doesn’t want to call a janitor over to clean it up. But she can’t just leave it here, and Chief Miller was probably too angry to think of how it’s going to get cleaned up.

Lexa continues walking, scanning for a tell-tale blue janitor’s uniform. Finally she spots one walking the other way.

“Janitor!” Lexa calls.

The boy turns around. At least, he looks like a boy, with the curls and the freckles. But his build obviously means he’s older. His name tag reads ‘B. Blake’.

“There’s been an incident just down the hall. I need it to be cleaned immediately.”

The man, B. Blake, scratches his head. “What kind of incident are we talking about? Because I might need some stronger cleaning stuff.”

“It’s a drawing. It looked like it was chalk. Whatever you carry with you should be appropriate.”

He nods, the curls bouncing as he does. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“See to it that it is done promptly.”

Lexa is fairly certain that she sees him roll his eyes, but she decides to let it slide. For the millionth time, she reminds herself that it is not the job of those in authority to be liked. Only respected.

Lexa continues along her day, pacing the Ark in attempt to keep it orderly and safe. She breaks up an almost-fight and helps a lost child home, so she doesn’t consider it to be a complete waste of the day. She still would have preferred spending it at home though.

But spending it at home means looking at pictures, even pillows, that remind her of Costia, and she just doesn’t need that. Going to work is a lot easier.

Lexa finds herself walking past the vandalized wall much more than she needs to, even though the actual vandalism has long since been cleaned. She just can’t get the image out of her head. What deviant managed to create something so illegal, yet so beautiful? A perfect storm of morals. 

Lexa tries to picture the artist. Man or woman? What age? Have they walked past the wall as many times as Lexa has, still picturing the image that once graced it? The whole premise of the case fascinates her. It was so unnecessary, but somehow, it was also exactly what the Ark needed. It needs more beauty, Lexa thinks.

Especially since they floated Costia. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are my chapters so short? I'm trying to make them longer, I swear.

***Clarke’s POV***

“How did you miss it? It was huge! It was probably longer than you are tall. And really detailed. It probably took forever to clean up.” Wells speculates

‘Not as long as it took to draw it, I bet,’ Clarke thinks to herself snidely. She shrugs at Wells. “I slept in a little later today. It must’ve been cleaned up by the time I went that way.”

Wells snorts. “You never sleep in.”

“Sometimes I do,” Clarke says casually.

“Yeah, well, you missed out. It was really something. Although I must say, it looked an awful lot like your drawing style…”

“What are you implying?” Clarke snaps. She immediately bites her tongue though. No need to get testy and arouse suspicion. She tries again. “I have better things to do than doodle on the walls. Besides, it was past curfew. They probably already caught the person that did it. The halls were empty, it can’t be that hard to find them.”

“Maybe I’ll ask my dad about that later.”

“Do that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Clarke waits two more nights before she tries anything again. This time she sneaks out after her parents are asleep, and curfew has long since begun. She brings more supplies this time. Her usual chalk, because the point isn’t to make a lasting impression. Still, as she passes her desk on the way out the door, she snatches a small tube of red paint. She has no idea why she does it, but she can figure it out later.

She goes a few hallways over this time, further away from the dining hall. She had noticed that her art had caused some congestion, and in retrospect, it was a little more public than she would have liked. She plans better this time. Chooses a wall out of the way. Still, people will see it, and they’ll talk about it.

She half wishes she brought a stool or something, because it seems lame to have a drawing of that scale reach only a little over five feet. Still, she makes do. She’s actually planned this one out in her head. A large skyscraper, the kind she’s never able to draw on paper. Now she thinks it’s because the paper can’t contain something so grand. All she needed was a bigger canvas. And here it is.

Clarke has to stand on her toes to sketch in the top of the tower, and she hunches over to add dozens of little windows. She adds a full moon, the same as last time. It’s the one thing that’s familiar in the picture. 

Clarke remembers what Wells had said, about the drawing style being familiar. She tries to mix it up, using shorter, blunt lines. She experiments with adding swirly clouds to the night sky. Shades in shadows more heavy handed. The result is a lot more bold than anything she’s ever done. Something crisp.

When Clarke steps back to admire her work, she feels the tube of paint shift in her pocket. She digs it out and inspects the wall. Red is the color of passion. Red is blood. Livelihood. It’s perfect for her trademark.

She crouches down so she can get as low to the drawing as possible. She squeezes a small amount of paint onto her finger, and draws a small infinity sign. Her own artist’s signature. 

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa’s night shift isn’t particularly interesting, as per usual. She treads the hallways with heavy footsteps and a heavy heart, counting down the hours until she can curl up in bed.

She’s halfway down a hall in farm station when she hears scuffling footsteps, something that shouldn’t be happening at this hour. Lexa slows down so her footsteps are silent, and braces herself before rounding the corner. 

The first thing she notices is the drawing on the wall. A majestic skyscraper piercing the night sky. She takes barely a second to look at it, as she becomes aware of some movement. But all there is is a whisp of blonde hair rounding the corner. Lexa doesn’t have the heart to follow it. Just for tonight, she’ll let the Artist go. 

She turns back to the drawing, this time inspecting it more closely. It seems more real this time, three dimensional. She admires the stars and the clouds mixing together in the sky. Then her eyes catch a pop of color, near the bottom. An infinity symbol done in red paint, still wet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortish chapter (I'm not good at long chapters ok), but I don't understand because this is three pages on Word and then it looks even more pathetic when I upload it
> 
> Also, unrelated, but I'm slowly becoming Murphy trash and idk how to deal with that (no, Murphy will not be in this fic, but I'll find a fic for him someday... He's such a complex character to write though. Which is part of the reason why he's awesome.)
> 
> Ok I'll shut up-enjoy, and comment what you think!

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa has to wait several weeks before she encounters the Artist again. That’s what the person has called around the Ark. People are talking about their work, and no one can quite figure out what their angle is. It’s so senseless, drawing pictures on the wall. Most people get in trouble on the Ark for stealing rations for their family. Or excessive waste. No one has the time or interest in drawing pictures.

And yet, the Artist continues their work. A little farm house under a sunny sky pops up one day. Another day there’s a field of flowers. The drawing style varies from picture to picture, Lexa notices. She’s only able to tell it’s the same artist based on the little red infinity symbol at the bottom of each picture. She notices because it’s her job, she tells herself, not because she has some deep rooted fascination in this person. 

As the days pass, Chief Miller gets increasingly annoyed with the lack of leads on the case. He hates when a case goes public, and he especially hates being outsmarted. He insists another guard take the night control with Lexa, because she clearly can’t handle catching the Artist on her own. Lexa grits her teeth at that and tries not to get sarcastic. 

Lexa could catch the Artist any time she wants to. Every now and then she’ll be in the same hall as the Artist as they’re doing their work. She only ever catches a glance of blonde hair. She doesn’t even hear footsteps. The Artist is silent when they move. They know exactly what they’re doing.

And so does Lexa, she wants to say. She’s doing her job. She’s onto the Artist, and she can pounce at any time. But Lexa can’t quite comprehend why she doesn’t just catch the Artist in the act and get a pat on the back from Chief Miller. She’s had a handful of opportunities.

Deep down, Lexa thinks she likes the pictures more than she should. They remind her of Costia without making her sad. Of how late at night, Costia would always whisper her vision of what the ground looks like now, and how she’d twirl Lexa’s hair around her finger as she did. Costia would like the Artist. She’d love the beauty of it, the mystery. After all, she alway said that’s what first drew her to Lexa in the first place. Her green eyes and her refusal to hold a proper conversation.

Somehow the Artist takes over Lexa’s every waking hours, both at work and at home. She can’t go anywhere without feeling their effects.

And life kind of gets better. The Ark is full of chatter, and it’s kind of funny to see the guards chase their own tails trying to catch the Artist. Especially since Lexa is the one person who almost has a lead. It doesn’t hurt to be alone anymore either. And suddenly, Lexa realizes she needs the Artist. She can’t let them get caught. They’ll float them out of spite alone. 

It’s only a few days after this conclusion that Lexa hears rustling during her night shift. She knows it can’t be the other guard. He’s halfway across the Ark. Meaning it can only be one other person.

Lexa turns the corner quietly, not wanting to disturb them. No one can ever know that she saw.

Tonight, the wall in question is being coated in what looks like a beach. There’s deep, curling waves, and there’s a girl crouched down, adding specks of sand.

It’s definitely the Artist, Lexa thinks to herself. She’d know that blonde hair anywhere. The rest of her is rather unfamiliar. She thinks she might seen her around before, maybe thought she was cute. And she is. Long curls, and sympathetic blue eyes. 

Lexa stands there like an idiot, watching the Artist do her work. Watching her flit around, adding details here and there where she sees fit. It’s incredible to see blank space become something full of life. 

She should really go. It’s too risky to be this close to her. But Lexa can’t make her feet move. The Artist is hypnotizing. Lexa hasn’t admired anyone for this long since Costia. And it doesn’t feel like a betrayal. It feels… Different. Not bad, but something unfamiliar. Still, Lexa tries to focus on the art instead.

The girl, the Artist, is halfway through tracing her infinity signature with paint when she whips around… And looks right at Lexa.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long update compared to the standards I have previously set. My friend reading this is slightly salty about my short updates, so this one is for you, Emily.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! I love hearing feedback from you guys! (Also low key I'm always looking for inspiration, so if you guys have any ideas of what you'd like to see from me, inside this fix or out, I'd love to hear it!)

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke is tracing her signature when she feels like someone is watching her. She tries to ignore the feeling, but just to be sure, she turns around. And sure enough, there’s a guard. 

Oddly enough though, the guard uniform isn’t the first thing she registers. It’s green eyes. The kind of green Clarke adds to the grass or the skin of an apple in her sketches. The kind of green that feels… Alive.

When Clarke does note the uniform though, she has to push aside all thoughts of said guard being impossibly beautiful. Not the time or place.

“Hello,” The guard says casually. Her voice is soft.

Clarke isn’t positive, but she’s pretty sure that mosts arrests don’t start with a formal greeting. But there’s no way she’ll be this lucky. Her art has taken the Ark by storm. No way the guards don’t want her caught, probably as publically as possible.

“Hey,” Clarke breathes. ‘Just mirror her,’ She thinks to herself. ‘Follow her lead. You’re only guilty if you act like it.’

“So you’re the Artist.” The guard comments.

“I’m an artist.”

“Your art has caused a lot of trouble.”

“I never meant to cause trouble. But people really liked it, so I kept going.” Clarke should probably act apologetic. Maybe the guard will let her go if she seems sorry. But the one thing 

Clarke could never apologize for is her art. She can’t undermine the one thing that matters.

“It’s very beautiful.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She knows her art is decent, maybe even good, but she did not expect a guard to be a fan. Maybe tonight won’t end in handcuffs after all. “Thank you.” Clarke remembers she’s still crouched on the ground, and takes the opportunity to rise to her full height. She and the guard are now eye to eye. “I’ve got to ask. What gave me away? I haven’t been getting caught for weeks. How did you know I’d be here? I know the patrol schedules, there’s no way a guard would be patrolling this area at this time.”

To Clarke’s surprise, the guard blushes. “I caught you weeks ago. I heard you working, and saw you run away. And I’ve seen you a few times since.” Clarke tries not to look surprised, but it’s hard. All this time, she thought she was so careful, so sneaky. Turns out the guards have been on her tail for weeks. There’s no way she’s not getting busted for this.

Except… The way the guard said she’s been watching her, as if she’s the one being caught, not Clarke. Maybe she isn’t the only guilty party after all. There’s no way the guard wouldn’t get punished for not arresting Clarke the first time.

“But you never arrested me,” Clarke prompts. It feels important to establish this timeline, because at trial this will certainly be a good thing to bring up. If Clarke is going down, so is Green Eyes. 

“No, I did not.”

“Why not?” Clarke takes half a step closer. Subtle, but both girls notice the shift in distance.

The guard flushes again. “Because I liked you. Your art. It’s… Beautiful. And it’s not hurting anyone. I saw no reason to intervene.”

“Well, thank you.” Clarke means it. This means she isn’t going to jail. At least, not tonight.

“You are welcome. But no one can know of this. I could get fired. And you…”

“Yeah, I know. I think being family friends with the Chancellor might spare me my life on that one though.”

The guard’s eyes narrow. “Who are you?”

Clarke shifts her weight from one foot to another. Exchanging names is risky. But if Clarke says her name, maybe the guard will say hers. Then this night won’t be a total disaster. “I’m Clarke Griffin.”

The guard’s eyes widen. “You’re Abby’s daughter.”

“You know my mother?” Of course she does. Abby is one the best doctors on the Ark. Everyone has crossed paths with her at one point or another.

“Of course. She’s on the Council, and she’s a very skilled surgeon. She treated my father, years ago.”

From the look on her face, Clarke doesn’t have to ask how that story ends. Abby is talented, but even she can’t save everyone. She clears her throat. “So you know who I am. Do I get your name?” 

“I suppose it’s only fair.”

Just then, Clarke hears footsteps echoing the halls. Both Clarke and the guard share a panicked look. 

“The other guard,” Clarke murmurs.

The guard grasps Clarke’s arm, and pulls her through a door. “Stay very quiet.”

“When did you have time to swipe your pass card?” Clarke wonders aloud. “Hey, this is my chemistry classroom.”

“Clarke, please be quiet.”

Clarke takes this moment to study the guard again. Definitely cute. And a little scary. Not to Clarke of course. She herself has been told on many occasions that she’s downright terrifying. Being with the guard doesn’t scare her one bit. If anything, Clarke has met her match. 

The guard has poised herself in front of the door, as if if it were to open, she’s ready to fight her way out. Clarke notes the tension her muscles hold, and her gritted teeth. 

Clarke absently wonders what it would be like to draw her.

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa tries not to grind her teeth. Costia had always told her that she’d ruin her teeth, and then she’d really never smile. She’d always gotten on Lexa’s case about that. It wasn’t that Lexa was never happy with Costia. She just wasn’t big on smiling. Or emotions in general, if they can be avoided.

Costia’s death only proved that point.

Lexa leans her head towards the door, listening for the other guard’s footsteps. She still hasn’t bothered to learn his name. She assumed that this would only be a temporary measure, and then she can patrol alone again. But now that the Artist has struck again, Chief Miller will never let her be alone again.

Speaking of alone, Clarke’s close presence is becoming increasingly problematic. When Clarke is around, Lexa’s mind shuts down, and she’s not sure if she likes that. Especially during a time like that.

She shakes her head to clear it, and continues listening. There’s no footsteps to be heard. She hopes that means that the other guard has worked his way down to another hallway. 

Still, she waits for another minute before opening the door, all the while trying to ignore Clarke looking curiously at her.

When she finally opens the door, she hears Clarke breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Do you think he saw it?” She gestures to the beach image adorning the wall.

“He would’ve radioed me if he saw it. He must’ve skipped this hall somehow.”

“Lucky us.”

“You should go home. You don’t want to get caught.”

“I thought I already was.”

“You don’t want to get caught by someone who won’t let it slide.”

“Fair enough. Good night. And thank you again.”

Despite herself, Lexa smiles. “Goodnight Clarke.”

***Clarke’s POV*** 

Clarke is halfway home when she realizes she never got the guard’s name in return. All the more reason to talk to her again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay update! This is long for me, I guess. And very plot heavy, which I hope is appreciated.  
> Side note, but I'm looking for one shot ideas to write in between working on chapters of this fic. Anyone have any head cannons or AUs they feel need exploring? I'm open to ideas!  
> Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys! Comment what you think!

The next morning, Clarke roams the Ark for as long as she can before school starts. She realizes the guard from last night probably won’t have a night shift and a morning shift back to back, but she has to try. The moment she stops looking will be the moment the guard walks away right under her nose. She didn’t seem too keen on seeing Clarke again, but she’s sure she can change that.

Clarke has a difficult time concentrating during class, which is new for her. Her teacher notices her staring into space a few times, but doesn’t say anything. Wells keeps shooting her concerned looks, which she pretends not to notice.

After school, Clarke tries to get out of the room as quickly as possible so Wells won’t try to talk to her. Unfortunately, Wells is faster.

“You’re avoiding me,” He accuses, stepping in front of her so she can’t slip away.

“No I’m not. I’m just a little tired. I was going to go home and rest.” At least the tired part isn’t a lie. Even at the best of times, Clarke doesn’t sleep very often. Abby always tells her it’s the product of an over-productive mind. 

“What, late night painting the walls of the Ark?”

Clarke controls her features. Even a twitch of her lips could give her away. “What, you’re talking about the Artist again? Let it go, Wells. You know me. I wouldn’t do that.”

Wells shifts his weight to his other foot. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t know if I do know you. You’ve been so secretive lately.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic. And  paranoid. You’re my best friend. What’s there to hide?”

Clarke sees the tension slowly release from Wells’ shoulders. He can never stay mad at her for long. “You’re right, as usual. It’s just that my dad has caught wind of this whole Artist thing, and it’s starting to get out of hand.”

Clarke frowns. “How?”

“People are starting to think it’s some kind of political statement. A movement to have us return to the ground. This morning when there was new art up, and a guard heard people talking about organizing a demonstration. And my dad can’t let that happen, Clarke. It would be chaos.”

Clarke’s mind races. She needs to find that guard, right now. Somehow, Clarke feels like they need to work together to solve this. She never meant for her art to be a movement. Her depictions of earth were just a sort of nostalgia of something she never actually had. Her rendition of what might have and should have been.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. People will forget. The excitement will die down.” Clarke pauses to fake yawn. “Listen, I’ll see you later, okay? I really am tired.”

Wells’ eyes pinch with sympathy. “Yeah, get some rest. Maybe I’ll see you tonight.”

Clarke nods, even though she knows full and well that she won’t be seeing much of anyone tonight. Apparently she has work to do.

* * * * *

Clarke waits until after curfew to leave. She figures the guard will probably be on patrol again tonight, and she seems to have a knack for finding her. Clarke brings her art supplies with 

her. She finds a wall close to her home, and starts sketching the outline of a planet. Earth, to be exact.

For once, she isn’t careful about making sound. She has to make herself known to the guard. 

It takes longer than the Clarke thought it would for the guard to show up. She’s almost done with the sketch.

“If you’re going to continue doing this, then I should hope you can at least be more quiet. You’re going to get caught,” The guard says behind her. Clarke doesn’t even jump at the sound of her voice.

“It’s the only way I could get your attention. We need to talk.”

The guard’s eyes harden, and Clarke can practically see the walls forming in her mind. “Then talk.”

“It’s about my art. People starting an uprising. They think I’m trying to make a statement by drawing the ground, and they’re banding together to try to get us back to earth. I heard there was almost a demonstration today.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

Clarke was hoping the guard wouldn’t bring that up, because Clarke doesn’t really see what this has to do with her either. But it seems important that she knows.

“I thought you’d want to know.”

“Why?”

“You’re a guard. You should know if something big is happening.”

“And you want me to stop it?”

Clarke twirls her pencil in her hand. “I don’t know.”

The guard raises her eyebrows. “I get the impression that you don’t say that a lot.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ve come to ask me for my help. The question is, which side will you take?”

“The Ark is too delicate to survive a revolution. We would destroy each other before we ever make it to the ground.”

“Then there you have it. But this means you will have to stop the vandalism.” Clarke follows the guard’s eyes to the picture of earth behind her.

“I can do that.”

“Then we’re done here.”

“Not quite. I never got your name.” Clarke is almost surprised by her own boldness. Who is she to demand anything of a guard?

Still, the guard’s lips almost quirk into a smile. “Lexa Woods. My name is Lexa Woods.”

* * * * *

Clarke can hear her parents talking when she slips through the front door. She creeps silently into her room, but pauses to listen before she gets settled in.

“The whole system is failing, Abby. And it isn’t an error this time. We have maybe three month’s worth of oxygen left, and then we’re all dead.”

“You can fix this, Jake. We can fix this. Just show Thelonious, and we can figure this out. But you can’t go public with this. Not until we figure out how to deal with this first.”

“I did figure out how to deal with this. The people need to know that they’re operating on 

borrowed time. They have a right to know.”

“Just run the numbers one more time. Then we can figure this out together. We can’t act rashly.”

“But we also have no time to lose! If we don’t act soon, it’ll be too late to do anything that can save everyone.”

“We can save everyone and keep things under control. Just slow down, okay?”

Clarke hears some shuffling, which she assumes is the customary kiss her parents share after a fight. But this isn’t a normal argument. This is bigger than the Griffin family. This new development, combined with the newfound movement of Clarke’s art, is all happening at the perfect time. If they have three months, then they do have to act quickly. And Clarke has been given the perfect stage to do it.

If given the choice of surviving a revolution or surviving an Ark system failure, then Clarke will choose the former. 

And once again, she finds herself needing to talk to Lexa.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Meghan, why do you write notes if no one reads them?" BECAUSE MAYBE SOMEONE OUT THERE JUST REALLY WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY CREATIVE PROCESS.
> 
> Anyway, new chapter. We're really getting into the thick of things now! Also, after this I'm totally gonna do a Clexa college au featuring Octavia and Murphy as roommates. Anything my like, two readers want to see from that? Let me know!
> 
> Enjoy!

***Clarke’s POV***

Call it fate or chance, but Clarke happens to bump into Lexa only two days later in the dining hall. Clarke had been tortured the past few days. Distant, restless, everything Clarke normally isn’t. She knew she had to find Lexa, but had no idea where to start, or why she felt the need to drag her into this.

When Clarke does spot Lexa, she tries to play it cool. Lexa is eating alone, pushing vegetables around on her plate. She looks so deep in thought, Clarke almost doesn’t want to disturb her.

That only deters her for a minute. She sits herself down across from her, waiting for her to look up in alarm.

“Hello Clarke,” Lexa says politely. Clarke finds the greeting unnecessarily formal, but endearing.

“We need to talk. Again.”

“I didn’t suppose you came all the way just to ask me how I like the food.”

Clarke almost laughs, but then she remembers her purpose. Not the time for banter, no matter how tempting it is. Lexa’s wit is subtle and irresistible, but Clarke will have to stay strong and on task for now. “So my dad is an engineer for the Ark,” She begins.

“I know,” Lexa interjects. Clarke can’t hide her look of bewilderment. “Your family is something of a staple in the Ark. Of course I know of them. Continue.”

Clarke makes a mental note to ask Jake and Abby if they’d ever heard of Lexa later, or if she’s just a little bit of a stalker. But can a person really be a stalker if they’re more than welcome into the other person’s life? ‘Not the point,’ Clarke scolds herself.

“Anyway, he found an irregularity in the system. I heard him talking about it the other night. The whole Ark only has a couple month’s worth of oxygen left, and then we’re all dead. And nobody knows except for him.”

“And you, evidently.”

Clarke remains serious. “And now you too.”

“Indeed. And what would you like me to do with this information?” Lexa leans forward to study Clarke. Clarke swallows hard. It’s unnerving to be studied by Lexa. Like she can figure you out and break you into little pieces in seconds.

“I need your help, I think. I can’t do this alone.”

“Do what, Clarke? You’re being vague.”

“The people need to know what’s happening. The Ark needs to come together and find a solution. This shouldn’t be kept a secret. Everyone has the right to know.”

Lexa tilts her head. “I am inclined to agree. So what’s your plan?”

“My art. That rebellion I wanted to avoid? We need it, and soon. If we can’t fix the system, then we need to leave it behind completely. It’s time to return to earth.”

“That’s a very bold thing to say, Clarke. And a dangerous one, too.”

“Why do you think I came to a guard with this?”

“Of course. When do we start?”

* * * * *

Clarke comes home to find her mother on the couch, shuffling papers around and looking incredibly stressed out. 

“Mom? Are you okay?”

Abby looks up and smiles a little. It doesn’t reach her eyes though. “I’m fine. Just looking through some medical documents.”

Clarke glances at the papers, and Abby sweeps them up and puts them in a folder. It’s supposed to look casual, but she obviously means to hide them from Clarke. Even at a glance, Clarke can tell those documents aren’t medical. And the only other conclusion she can reach is that they’re somehow related to the system failure.

“So how do you know Lexa Woods? I saw you two chatting in the dining hall earlier. I didn’t think you two knew each other.” Abby tries to change the subject. She isn’t one to gossip, and Clarke knows it. She must really be grasping for conversation.

“I don’t, really. Wells was talking to her and I was with him, but he had to go meet his dad about something, so we just made small talk. She challenged me to chess, but I kind of just wanted to come home and hang out.” Sometimes it scares Clarke how smoothly a lie can roll off her tongue.

“Odd, I didn’t think she was that sociable. I haven’t really spoken to her in years, but I was under the impression that she didn’t get out much.”

“Why is that?”

“If I had to guess? She lost both her parents at a young age. I personally treated the father. A very rare blood disease I didn’t have the resources to treat. I forget what the mother had, but I had the feeling she and Lexa weren’t terribly close. She was a very serious little girl. Of course, under the circumstances, I couldn’t blame her.”

Clarke recalls that she meant to ask Abby about Lexa anyway. “So what, she’s a recluse now?”

Abby shrugs. “I honestly don’t know a lot about her. I heard in passing that she was with another girl, Cassie or Colleen or something a few years ago. No wait, Costia. I remember because of the unusual name. She got floated two years ago, for theft. I don’t remember the specifics, but Thelonious mentioned it to me only because the girlfriend, Lexa, caused a big scene, and it struck a chord with him. That’s all I know.”

Clarke frowned deeply, and Abby leaned forward. “Why are you so curious about this girl?”

Clarke shrugged. “Something seemed off about her when we talked. I was just curious what her story was.” Not a lie. She paused. “And you brought her up.”

“I did do that. Listen, I need to head down to the hospital. I have an operation scheduled, and it might go late. Your father won’t be home tonight, so don’t wait up for him, either. Will you be okay on your own?” 

Clarke nods. She has certain plans for tonight anyway. “Of course. Do what you need to do.”

Abby nods solemnly. “I’ll try.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Sabooian, for writing a comment that made me smile so freaking much and motivated me to keep writing.   
> And for anyone else who leaves comments! You all are awesome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated in a few weeks. I'm not giving up on this, I promise! I'm just graduating soon and so it's been hectic. But bear with me! I have a lot in store.  
> In other news, I wrote angsty fluff and I hate myself for it. The plot is really picking up now...

***Lexa’s POV***

“So I sketched out the design. It’s pretty simple, I know. But I just need to get the point across. I’m not doing it for the aesthetic anymore.”

Lexa glances down at the paper, nodding. “Everyone was very excitable after your last piece. Your depiction of earth seemed to add fuel to the fire.”

“Perfect. They know where the Artist stands. And the guards aren’t making a move right?”

“We’re scrambling to assemble. But no one wants to make a big deal of it, because it would be acknowledging and validating the movement. No one seems to have any answers as to how to keep this under wraps.” Lexa smirks a little at the end. No one wants to see the Ark crumble more than she does. One way or another, the Ark killed everyone she loved.  Lexa would really like to see the Ark killed too, if only symbolically. 

“So we have them right where we want them.” Clarke smiled a little too. She doesn’t smile often, Lexa notices. But she looks younger when she does. Clarke is already younger than Lexa though. Still in school. Too young for the burden she bears. 

“Lexa?” Clarke’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

Lexa shifts her focus to Clarke, so she knows she’s listening. 

“I’m going to scope out the wall tonight. I want to get to the the space, so I can make this good. And if you wanted, I was wondering if you’d join me?”

Lexa can’t help but break out into a small smile. Clarke’s dedication to her craft never ceases to amaze her. She’s so cute, wanting to make sure this call to action is perfect. 

Even though Clarke can’t hear her internal monologue, Lexa flushes at the thought of Clarke being cute. Cute isn’t the right word for Clarke usually. Clarke is powerful. Independent. Awe inspiring. Strong. Everything a revolutionary should be.

Once again, Lexa has to pull herself back into the conversation. “I would like that very much. Wait twenty minutes after curfew, then make your way to the spot. Be careful though, I’m not technically on patrol tonight. If you get caught, you’ll actually be in trouble.”

Clarke leans back in her chair, and rubs her forehead. “I think I already am.”

* * * * * 

***Clarke’s POV***

“Dad, what are you still doing up?” Clarke was not expecting her father to still be awake. She has to meet Lexa in five minutes. She doesn’t have time to think of a reasonable excuse to sneak out after curfew. Luckily, Jake seems to be distracted, to say the least.

“Hmmm? Oh, I was just… Trying to sort some stuff out. Work, you know. I’m working on a big project.” He gestures vaguely at the papers in front of him.

“I can help.” Clarke doesn’t know why she says that. She can’t expect her father to reveal too much to her.

“Not with this one, I’m afraid. Too risky. But if I need your opinion down the line, I’ll be sure to ask.” Clarke knows Jake isn’t just appeasing her. Jake is always the first to ask Clarke’s opinion on anything. In any conversation, he’ll try to loop her in. Not even Wells can do that all the time. Not even her mother. But Jake seems to know what Clarke is capable of. They’ve reached a silent understanding.

“Okay.” Clarke shifts her weight nervously. “I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”

Jake looks at her tiredly. “Alright. But whatever you do, don’t get caught.”

Clarke pulls the front door open. “I won’t.”

As promised, Clarke makes it to the ‘spot’ safely. It’s not as hard as it should be. If it didn’t benefit her, Clarke would be very concerned about the lax security on the Ark.

Lexa is already there, not to Clarke’s surprise. They’d chosen a wall by a window, one of the few on the Ark. The view of Earth from this spot was clear, which was why the pair had chosen it. Clarke’s message would be right next to a real depiction of what they need to return to. It seemed more powerful than any drawing Clarke could ever do.

Lexa’s back is turned, as she’s gazing out the window. Clarke can practically see gears silently turning in Lexa’s head, working through who-knows-what. 

Instead of disturbing her, Clarke joins her side silently. Lexa doesn’t seem at all surprised when she turns to see her there. 

“Hello Clarke.”

“Hey.”

“It’s very beautiful, isn’t it?” Lexa nods her head to the window, referencing the Earth, in all of its possibly radioactive glory.

“Yeah. When I was little I’d always try to squint my eyes and see if I could make out any trees or animals down there. I could never really see anything, of course. But I always thought I’d live to see it in person.”

“It’s very green. It doesn’t look lethal, does it?”

Clarke can think of something else that is very green. But also very lethal. A set of eyes that she can’t seem to stop looking at, even when they aren’t trained on her. 

“No, it doesn’t. Like you said, it’s beautiful.”

“It could be home soon, too.”

“Hopefully. If this plan works.” Clarke doesn’t mean to sound worried. Their plan has to work. Clarke has never been short on confidence, and now isn’t the time to lose her nerve.

“It will. You are a very skilled leader, Clarke. You use your head. The people will see that, and they will follow you.”

“Thank you, Lexa. Really. I can’t do this without you.”

Lexa turns so she’s facing Clarke full on. Somehow this seems significant. And for a long moment, Clarke forgets that she’s here to study the wall, not the sharp jut of Lexa’s cheekbones, or the soft slope of her shoulders. This isn’t the time. But this place… It seems as good and right  as any.

Clarke finds herself leaning in. It all seems so rushed. They met maybe two weeks ago. But in those two weeks they’ve schemed together. They’ve come together to create something great. They’ve even smiled together. Clarke knows about her past. And Lexa knows about her future. 

Lexa leans in too, until they’re only inches apart. And then she stops.

“Not tonight, Clarke. We can’t.”

“Why?” Clarke’s voice is barely above a whisper, so low she’s sure Lexa barely catches the word.

“It’s too much. We must focus on our duty.”

“We have a duty to ourselves as well as to our people.” Clarke pauses. “Is it because of Costia?”

Lexa physically recoils. “How do you know her name?” Her voice sounds like venom.

Clarke tries not to mentally kick herself. What a tactless thing for her to say. “My mother. She saw us talking, and she told me about your family. And Costia too.”

“Please don’t,” Lexa whispers.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was curious. I wanted to understand.”

“You can’t.” Lexa’s voice is cold now. Almost completely neutral. Shutting down.

“Not if you don’t let me.”

“We don’t know each other, Clarke. We’ve only just met.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think it’s time for me to go.”

“Don’t,” Clarke begs. “Please.”

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“Or right now.”

“I can’t.”

“But…” Time to resort to her last chance to make Lexa understand, even if Clarke herself could not. “I like you… A lot.”

Lexa freezes. Clarke can see every muscle tense. And then all of the sudden, she releases.

“The same goes for me.” Lexa frowns deeply. “And I am unsure how to proceed from here.”

“Okay,” Clarke laughs a little. The whole thing is so ridiculous. The guard and the Artist? How disgustingly cliche. “Okay. We don’t have to figure this out yet. Let’s just… Be.” 

Lexa offers her a small smile as a truce. “Let’s start a revolution.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know, I may or may not be able to update again until July. I'm going away next week and won't be near a computer. But I should be able to update pretty regularly in July, when my schedule calms down. Just bear with me, and don't lose hope! I will not abandon this fic!
> 
> Enjoy, and comment what you think!

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke decides to meet Lexa for breakfast the next day. She has no idea when Lexa will make her way to the dining hall, but she assumes that Lexa is an early riser. Clarke finds a table that has a good view of the entire space, and settles in. She’s buzzing with nervous energy. Maybe it’s the thought of seeing Lexa soon. Or maybe it’s the fact that in hardly twelve hours, she’ll be doing her final piece as the Artist. Tomorrow she’ll simply be Clarke. But even without the title, after tonight, Clarke will never be the same again.

When she sees Lexa walk into the dining hall, she makes her way towards her slowly. Lexa looks nervous too. Her eyes keep darting around the room, as if she’s looking for someone. Even when she spots Clarke, it seems to bring her no relief.

“There’s no need to look suspicious,” Clarke chides. She keeps her voice low.

“I took an oath as a guard, Clarke. To protect the citizens of the Ark. To abide by the law.”

“At this point, we can only do one of those things. Are you with me, or not?”

Lexa studies Clarke for a long time before she answers, her features softening marginally. “Of course I am with you. No one wants to see the Ark’s destruction more than me. But breaking rules has never come easily to me.”

Clarke smiles a little. She gestures to the table she had claimed earlier, and sits down. “That is where we differ. I’ve never been able to make things easy.”

“But your heart is in the right place.”

“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” It’s a saying Abby says her mother used to say. No one on the Ark is religious anymore. There is no one left to believe in Hell.

Neither girl talks for a long time. They shuffle over to the kitchen to get their food, and pick at it half heartedly. Neither one has much of an appetite. If anyone were to look at the pair, no one would be able to tell they were nervous. No one would suspect that tonight they would turn the Ark upside down. Maybe that’s why it has to be Clarke and Lexa. Very unsuspecting, but very powerful. The thought almost comforts Clarke. She’s supposed to do this.

Once it becomes clear that neither girl is going to finish her food, Lexa offers to walk Clarke home. Clarke eventually agrees. The gesture is much appreciated.

“So about last night…” Clarke begins once they’ve left the dining hall. 

“We don’t have to talk about it. Not now, at least.” Lexa offers. But Clarke knows she’s just looking for the easy way out.

“We might as well. Takes our minds off everything else.”

“Hardly.” Lexa pauses. Her green eyes bore into Clarke, not really threatening, although Clarke is still almost getting that feeling. Maybe she just hates being studied. “You don’t seem to understand. This all ties together for me. Costia, my family, the revolution… You. It’s all the central focus in my life. Costia and my family led me to this, which led me to you. This is not a side project to me. This is my whole life in the making. And you cannot say you know anything about me unless you understand that.”

Clarke blinks at Lexa’s candor. This is the most emotional Lexa has ever gotten, and Clarke is hardly one to complain. With the tensions this high, and Lexa being strung this tight, 

it’s no wonder she’s close to snapping. But this could also mean they can finally, finally, get somewhere.

“This is my life too, you know. It’s not a side project to me either. I’ve devoted myself to this.” ‘And to you,’ Clarke adds mentally.

“Good. Because we can never succeed if your head isn’t in it.”

“It is. My head and my heart both.”

“This is no place for heart.”

“It can if we let it be.” 

Lexa raises her eyebrows. “I never thought that you would rule with your heart. It’s weakness.”

“I can rule with both. And I will. My head will rule this revolution. My heart will rule my life.” 

“And us?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“I cannot stop you. Clarke Griffin, you are a force to be reckoned with.”

Something warm comes over Clarke. Something she’s not familiar with. This something is what makes Clarke grab Lexa’s hand and pull her around a corner, where no one can see them. This something makes Clarke lean in, closer than she dared the night before. This something seems to envelop Lexa too, because she leans in as well. 

And then they kiss. It’s nothing and everything like Clarke imagined. It’s soft and slow, but smoldering. Wanting. Lexa seems to completely melt under her lips. Walls collapse and flowers burst into life and everything in between. It feels monumental. Important. Beautiful.

Perfect, even.

And then the lights flicker. It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to pull Clarke and Lexa apart. And then to her surprise, she sees her own father’s face projected on the wall.

“Hello citizens of the Ark. My name is Jake Griffin, and I am an engineer in charge of the life system here on the Ark. And today I am here to tell you all something that your government has tried to keep under wraps.” Clarke takes a sharp inhale. No. This can’t be happening. What is he doing? He’ll be arrested. Floated. She was going to fix anything. Why couldn’t Jake have waited one more day? “A few weeks ago I discovered what seemed to be a glitch in the system. A miscalculation. But I have run the numbers, and this is not a mistake.” Clarke can feel Lexa tense next to her in anticipation. “The life support on the Ark-” 

Behind Jake, Clarke can see the door burst open. She watches, frozen, as guards pour in. She watches as the screen goes black. All she can do is watch. But as soon as she’s sure the feed is shut off, she doesn’t hesitate. She takes off running towards her house, as fast as she can. And Lexa is right on her heels.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this update, and as usual, leave comments with your thoughts!

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke can’t breathe. She’s drowning. Her feet can’t bring her home fast enough. She pushes through the crowds that clumped together faster the video feed had begun. Some people seem to recognize her as Jake’s daughter, and reach their arms out, grasping for answers. Clarke doesn’t take the time to brush them off. She simply barrels through them. Eventually people get the message, and get out of her way.

After too long, Clarke finds herself at home. The door is busted open. Anyone walking by could just glance in. It seems insulting. The shame of being arrested shouldn’t be this public. Jake deserves so much more. Jake doesn’t deserve this. The Ark doesn’t deserve this.

“Dad!” Clarke sobs. Her voice sounds too high to her, foreign. Broken.

“Clarke, get out of here!” Jake isn’t shouting, but his voice holds a certain urgency she’s never heard from him before. Maybe it’s just fear.

The guards are wrestling Jake into handcuffs. He doesn’t seem to be resisting anymore. He knows his fight is over. He must be being brave for Clarke. A small part of her wonders where Abby is, why she isn’t here. But the thought only barely crosses Clarke’s mind.

“Stop!” Lexa’s voice rings out from behind her. The sound is so powerful, everyone, even the guards, freeze.

Lexa steps forward, no fear or uncertainty in her movements. “On what grounds is this man being arrested?”

“Publicizing top secret government information. Conspiracy to cause mass panic. You know the rules, Woods. You can’t stop this. The warrant came from the Chancellor himself.”

This catches Lexa enough off guard that her stony expression falters. Beside her, Clarke’s heart sinks. “The Chancellor did this?” She whispers to herself. Jaha, who watches soccer games with her and Jake on the weekends. The same man who invites the Griffins over for dinner at least once a week. This isn’t possible.

But now isn’t the time for disbelief. It’s fight or flight. No freezing. No getting choked up. It’s not over until it’s over. That’s what Jake has always told her. “You can hold him, but you can’t do anything to him yet. He’s personal friends with the Chancellor. My mother, his wife, serves on the Council. He’s the best engineer this Ark has. No one touches him until I speak to the Chancellor.”

She must look ridiculous, part of Clarke muses. A relatively short seventeen year old trying to order a bunch of guards. Even Jake is staring, mouth slightly agape. But if she stands her ground and acts like she has authority, she knows the guards will yield it.

“We have our orders.” One guard says hesitantly. 

“I’m sure you can put a hold on them. Consider it an appeal. The Chancellor may even thank you for saving him from doing something he’d regret.” Clarke’s eyes narrow.

“I will escort her to his office,” Lexa adds. “Postponing his orders will do no harm. Clarke is right. No one wants to walk away with any regrets.”

Clarke can practically see the guards’ heads spinning. “We’ll bring him to a holding cell,” One of them finally relents. “We will await further orders there. Woods, don’t let her out of your sight. That’s a live wire.”

A smile barely ghosts Lexa’s face as she looks back at Clarke, eyes glowing. “I know.”

* * * * *

“What are you going to tell him?” Lexa inquires softly as the pair walk to the Chancellor’s office. 

“I’m going to tell him the truth. The Ark is dying. Floating his head engineer won’t help. Neither will angering the one who’s really holding the cards. The combined influence and connections of Clarke Griffin and the Artist isn’t a small threat.”

To Clarke’s surprise, when she turns the corner to the Chancellor’s office, she sees Wells, pacing in front of the door.

“What are you doing here?” She hisses. She doesn’t mean to sound hostile, but right now, Wells is standing in the way of her and her father’s life.

“Waiting for you.” Wells creases his eyebrows. “Clarke, what is happening? Your father just got arrested. That video…”

“Is exactly why I came to talk to your father. Now move.” Wells’ eyebrows now shoot up in surprise. He’s never seen this side of Clarke. The strong side. He looks like he wants to say something more, but all he can do is step aside.

“I’ll wait out here,” Lexa tells her, and moves aside as well. Clarke pushes the door open, letting herself in. She figures she doesn’t need to knock.

Jaha rises as soon as he sees Clarke, and she closes the door behind her.

“Chancellor,” She greets shortly.

“Clarke. The guards told me you’d be coming. Although, I expected you regardless.”

“What do you think you’re doing? He’s your best friend.” Clarke had a much more logical argument laid out, but these are the only words that come out.

“Who broke the law. No one is above it, Clarke. He was given access to classified information that he had no right to reveal. We had very different ideas regarding how to go about this development, and he chose an immature and reckless way to handle our differences.”

“And you’ll let your personal feud cost you a friend’s life?”

“Not a personal feud. It’s all politics. If I let Jake go, where does it end? Jake came close to committing the crime of the century with almost revealing these secrets. If he can live, then everyone else who every got floated will have died in vain.”

“Floating my father won’t preserve enough oxygen to save us all.”

“Your father is a criminal now.”

“He was only telling the truth. The people need to hear it.”

“It was not his truth to tell. He knew the cost. And know, unfortunately he must pay it. I take no pleasure in this, Clarke. I care for him just as you do. But I must care for the wellbeing of the Ark above all else.”

“You’ll regret this. Kill him, and you’ll have to watch this Ark crash and burn.”

“I will ignore this threat, as you are obviously under great stress. You’re grieving.” Jaha shifts slightly. “Now if I were you, I would go to the floating dock. I’m sending word to the guards to prepare it now. Abby will already be there, I’m sure. You will have your chance to say goodbye. This is the one favor I can grant you. I wish I could do more.”

By this time, tears were running unchecked down Clarke’s face. She doesn’t care. 

“We’re living on borrowed time, Chancellor,” Clarke spits. “Now you most of all.”

She yanks the door open, and doesn’t look back. Lexa’s eyes dart towards the sudden movement. She seems to assess the situation based on Clarke’s stricken face alone. Wells has somehow disappeared.

“Would you like me to walk you there?”

“I can’t stop you from it. I can’t stop any of this,” Clarke murmurs, almost to herself.

Lexa wisely remains silent as Clarke continues. “Jaha has no idea what he’s starting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that time I wrote a chapter without angst? Yeah, me neither.  
> Apparently I'm gonna draw this out and make it as painful for everyone as possible.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave in to my never ending need for angst... I almost made myself cry.

***Clarke’s POV***

Abby is already there when Clarke arrives. She is weeping into Jake’s arms. Jake remains completely still, careful not to disturb her. Only his set jaw could possibly give away his true feelings regarding the situation. He just nustles his head deeper into Abby’s neck, probably whispering soft nothings into her ear. Clarke recalls him doing the same thing when her grandmother died.

“Dad?” Jake finally looks up, and breaks into a wide smile. Abby looks up as well, and takes a step back, so Clarke can launch herself into Jake’s waiting arms.

“They can’t do this to you,” Clarke whispers into his shoulder.

“I knew the risks, Clarke. It was just a fluke that the guards came before I could say what I wanted to. It’s no one’s fault. You can’t blame anyone.”

“I was going to fix this,” Clarke whispered. “I had everything under control.” She looks up at Jake, who looks confused. “I heard you and mom talking. I know the life support on the Ark is failing. I know we don’t have much time.”

“Clarke, you shouldn’t get involved in this. It’s a dangerous game to play.”

“I have help. And I also have quite a following.” Clarke takes Jake’s hands into her own, and slips a red tube of paint out of her pocket. She had put it there for that night, but she can spare a little. Clarke glances around the room, ensuring no one can see what she’s doing. With shaking hands, she traces the infinity sign, her signature, onto the palm of Jake’s hand. 

“What is this?” Jake looks down to study his hand. Confusion crosses his face. Slowly, the pieces fall into place. Clarke can practically see the exact moment it registers, when Jake recognizes the symbol.

“I should’ve known,” He chuckles to himself. “Of course you would be the one to take the Ark by storm.” He curls his hand, so the symbol is hidden. “You’re not my little girl anymore, are you? I don’t need to protect you. You’ve got this Clarke, I believe in you. You are going to be the one to bring mankind back to earth. I know it.”

“I’ll try my hardest,” Clarke vows. 

“I have something for you too.” Jake unlatches the watch from his wrist, and folds it into Clarke’s hand. “I want at least a piece of me to make it to earth. You need to show me everything.”

“I will,” Clarke promises. The tears are coming freely now. Building up in her chest and being released in heaving breaths. “I’ll keep it with me, always.”

“Let’s go back to your mother now, okay? Get one more goodbye in.” Jake wraps his arm around Clarke as they go to join Abby.

“My two girls…” Jake says, lovingly running a hand through Abby’s hair. “I wanted to give you both a future. Now you’ll have to have one without me. But it’ll be a better one. You’re both such beautiful, smart, stubborn women. I am so proud of the both of you. And I love you. But I will always be with you.”

Clarke runs her thumb over the face of the watch as a reminder.

“Jake,” Jaha says suddenly. Clarke hadn’t even realized that he was in there. “It’s time.” 

Looking at him now, Clarke can’t find it in her to hate Jaha. He looks too sad. Everyone carries a burden. Jake doesn’t want hate to grow in Clarke’s heart. He always said that it’s a place for passion and for love only.

Jake leans in to kiss Abby on the mouth, then Clarke’s forehead. This final act brings a fresh round of tears. Both women cling to each other as Jake steps into the airlock. Clarke watches as Jake smiles at them, and as the airlock opens. The smile is still on his face when he leaves. Clarke catches the flash of red on his hand as he goes.

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa cannot help but remember the last time she was in here. Nearly three years ago. Lexa had only been seventeen. Costia had been just a few weeks past eighteen. She still remembers every word Costia had said, the look on her face as the airlock opened.

_ “I was doing it for you, you know,” Costia murmurs to Lexa. _

_ “You were bootlegging alcohol… For me?” Lexa tried the taste of the words in her mouth. She couldn’t comprehend why Costia would do such a thing, let alone for her. _

_ “I needed money. I was going to get you this ring… People used to give them to their lovers when they wanted to get married. I thought you’d like that.”  _

_ She was right. Lexa would like that. It would make all this pain she’d lived through worth it. But alas, no. It led to more pain, more tears. Only love could make her feel this way. _

_ “You wanted to marry me?” _

_ “After you turned eighteen, of course. It’d only be a few more months. Then you’d do your training and be the best guard on the Ark before you’re even twenty.” _

_ Lexa could only cry as she pictured this version of her life. Doomed to become nothing but a dream, in the midst of her nightmare. _

_ “I love you, Lexa,” Costia murmured, pulling her in for a final kiss. _

_ “I love you too. More than anything.”  _

_ It was one of the only times Lexa had ever said it out loud. _

Now Clarke is stalking towards her, renewed determination on her face.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, no more stalling! The revolution is coming, and it's coming FAST


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening.

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa cannot help but be in awe of Clarke. She can push her emotions down in the way Lexa has struggled to do for years. Somehow Lexa has always come out with too much heart. But then there’s Clarke, calm and focused, only a few hours after her father’s death.

It’s been three years since Costia, and Lexa still has nightmares. Maybe Clarke is just stronger than her. Or a particularly talented actor.

“When I clocked into my shift, I rewired everything. The video should play without disruption. It’ll be difficult  for the other guards to find its source. I set a timer so it will play just after dinner is over.”

Clarke nods. “So a majority of the people will be clumped in one spot. That’s good.” Clarke checks her father’s watch. It was an awful scene to watch. Lexa herself wanted to cry when Jake had handed his watch to Clarke. It was too much. This is all too much. But it’s the right thing to do. Jake knew it. Clarke knows it. Lexa is coming to know it. “Dinner started a few minutes ago. So most of the guards will be stationed there, right?”

“Myself and one other guard are to patrol the rest of the halls while dinner is happening. A handful are stationed in the center as well, but by the time we hit, there won’t be much they  can do. I had the other guard start patrolling at the far end, by Farm Station. He won’t catch you if you work quickly. I’ll stand watch.”

Clarke nods again, and surveys the wall. The first one she ever vandalized, Lexa recalls. The most public one either of them could think of. How far they’ve come.

Lexa really does intend to stand watch attentively, but as soon as Clarke starts moving, she cannot help but shift her attention elsewhere. Clarke’s arm moves in great arches, shadowing and smudging bits and pieces as she goes. She moves instinctively, as if it were as easy as tracing a picture rather than creating one. Her delicate eyebrows knit together in concentration, and occasionally she stops her work to brush a piece of golden hair out of her eyes. Lexa suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to kiss her again. 

Lexa doesn’t even notice when Clarke finishes. Not until Clarke suddenly says, “Do you think the people are already talking? My dad, he got pretty far in explaining everything before the feed got cut off. Someone must have put everything together by now. They must know. Don’t you think?” Clarke turns to Lexa for an answer. 

“They don’t want to believe it. People would rather accept a beautiful lie than a harsh truth. That’s why they need you to wake them up.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Lexa gestures to the drawing Clarke just finished. “You practically did.”

Clarke takes a daring step forward. “No, I didn’t. I need you.” The distance between them closes, and somehow the cosmos allow their lips to find each other. It is far more desperate than the last kiss was. More urgent. There’s still passion, but it’s different than before. The last one was smoldering. This kiss is pure fire.

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke almost wishes there was a way to preserve her work. It’s her best yet. On one side of the wall, she drew a standard abode aboard the Ark. Gray couches, metal walls. The same arrangement everyone will recognize. On the other side, Clarke replicated one of her earlier  drawings of earth, with a meadow and a river and a vast night sky. Under the Ark home, she wrote, in all caps, ‘THIS IS NOT HOME’. Then, under the meadow, ‘THIS IS HOME’. In bright red paint, right over the drawing, Clarke had traced her infinity sign so it covered the width of the wall. In that same paint, she wrote ‘IT’S TIME TO GO BACK’.

Clarke shakes her head. The kiss had made her mind foggy, and right now she needs to be sharp. She turns to Lexa, although she can barely look her in the eye without wanting to pull her in again. “We should probably go. The video will start soon.”

Lexa leads Clarke to the far side of the Ark, close to the Chancellor’s office. They had chosen this spot because they knew this would be the first place the people would go. But Lexa and Clarke need to be first. They are the mouthpieces, the leaders. 

They have almost reached their destination when the video appears. Clarke’s face is on every wall with a projector. And then the video starts to play.

“People of the Ark, my name is Clarke Griffin. My name is probably to familiar many, but the majority of you will know me by the Artist. This is a call to action. Earlier today, my father tried to warn you all that the life system on the Ark is failing. We have only a few months to live. But this is only the case if life continues on the Ark. I have a different proposition. It has been nearly a hundred years since mankind has seen the ground. It is time for us to become reacquainted. But we cannot riot for this future. Instead we must band together. We must revolutionize. And together, we can bring mankind back to the ground. This is the future we deserve. This is the destiny we inherited from our ancestors. It’s time to go back.”

“It won’t be long now,” Lexa murmurs.

Clarke stays silent, counting the seconds until she can hear someone nearing the Chancellor’s office. It takes less than a minute for her to see Jaha himself round the corner, face red and flustered. Wells tails him.

“Clarke!” He shouts. “What have you done?”

“I’m trying to save us all.”

“You lied to me. You were the Artist all along.”

“I didn’t want to lie. But you would’ve tried to stop me.”

“I wish I did. There’s a huge crowd coming, and they’re not happy. You’re going to lead us to our deaths.

As if on cue, footsteps approach. Voices clamor over one another, but no one is pushing or yelling. Not yet. But the crowd is reeling with energy, and if they don’t have answers soon, they may very well riot despite Clarke’s warning. Jaha seems to understand this urgency.

He spots Clarke and Lexa, and pauses. “Apparently we have to have a talk.”

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa and Clarke silently follow Jaha into his office. Even the crowd goes quiet. 

Jaha takes a seat at his desk. “You know Clarke, I just floated your father for a much more subdued version of what you just did.”

Clarke tilts her chin defiantly, which Lexa admires. “Float me. Then you’ll have a riot on your hands, and still only a few months to live.”

“We have our best engineers working on this problem. You must have faith in them.”

“You just floated your best engineer. He risked his life because he couldn’t find another solution. And you think a bunch of novice engineers can? You know that nobody knew the Ark like my father did.”

“Chancellor, if I may,” Lexa bows her head slightly in respect, although she’s unsure why. “The people face certain death on the Ark. On earth, we have at least a chance at survival.”

“That is where you are both wrong. I lead my people to death either way. Whether it be on the Ark, or the radiation soaked earth.”

“But like Lexa said,” Clarke interjects. “We’ll have a fighting chance. The Ark can’t support us anymore. But maybe earth can. It’s the best chance we have. It’s the difference between death, and certain death.”

“Such a public act of disobedience… This is certain death,” Jaha grumbles.

“Don’t change the subject,” Clarke snaps, once again leaving Lexa speechless. She is so brave. Brilliant.

“Bring us home, Chancellor,” Clarke leans forward, so she can look Jaha in the eye. “Put your best engineers on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was fun to write! This fic probably has a couple more chapter yet. They haven't made it to the ground, so they're not out of the woods yet! (So to speak.)  
> Thoughts? I'd love to hear what you all think! The revolution has begun!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter, but I couldn't find a better place to stop. More is coming though! I'm having a lot of fun writing this.   
> Enjoy, and as usual, comment what you think!

***Clarke’s POV***

Clarke emerges from the office feeling a little smug. The crowd is still waiting, the tension in the air near tangible. They’re all waiting for direction.

Clarke waits until she can feel Lexa by her side. Her presence steadies her. She surveys the crowd. “You’re all probably wondering what happened in there. What’s going to happen next. But I want to talk about what happened before that. We achieved complete government transparency. No more closed doors. Only open hearts from now on.” To Clarke’s bewilderment, everyone gives a cheer. She glances over at Lexa, who also has her eyebrows raised, but more so in amusement. Her eyes are dancing. 

“They’re waiting for you to speak,” Lexa murmurs, gesturing to the excited crowd.

Clarke curls her hand around Lexa’s. “I can’t be the only voice to this. You’re a leader too.”

Lexa’s eyes widen a little. But Clarke squeezes her hand in reassurance, and Lexa tentatively steps forward. Clarke smiles a little.

“My name is Lexa Woods. I was, am, a guard here. But I’ve also worked alongside Clarke to help her with this revolution.” She glances back at Clarke, who nods encouragingly. 

“Clarke just talked about the past. We achieved a lot. But we also lost a lot.” Jake. Costia. Lexa’s parents. The name roll through Clarke’s mind. She tries to shift her focus back on Lexa, whose voice is becoming stronger.

“So instead, I want to talk about the future. Clarke and I just talked to the Chancellor, and we agree that life on the Ark cannot continue. It is too broken. We also agree that we will not let anyone else die on the Ark. We recognize the dangers of earth, but we can also reap many rewards. With those rewards in mind, we begin our journey back to earth.”

There’s another cheer, larger than the one Clarke received. But she’s beaming. Lexa has found her place. She’s not as cold or timid as she appears. She is a rockhard leader. Her place is at the top of the food chain.

Lexa does not let the noise get to her. She presses on, those green eyes still dancing. Her expression remains authoritative. “A new council has been created, composed of the Chancellor, Clarke, myself, and a select few council members and mechanics who will bring us to the ground. We will ensure that you all are well informed, and there will be no secrets. Clarke and I will be sure of it.”

“Now if you all will excuse us,” Jaha comes up behind Lexa and Clarke. “We have a council meeting to attend.”

* * * * *

“Everyone, please go around the room, and introduce yourselves.” Jaha gestures around the table. He turns to his left, indicating Clarke to begin.

“My name is Clarke Griffin. Co-leader of this movement.” Underneath the table, she grabs Lexa’s hand, earning a blush from her.

“Lexa Woods. The other leader of this movement.” Her bravado from her past speech has not faded. She is still positively glowing. Clarke is very glad to have Lexa on her side, because otherwise, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

“My name is Sinclair. I am Chief Engineer on the Ark.” Sinclair had been a dinner guest at the Griffin’s several times. He and her father had gone on about mechanics for hours.

“I’m Raven Reyes. Mechanic,” Raven says shortly. 

“An engineering prodigy,” Sinclair adds. Raven seems to beam at this, although she tries her best to hide it.

“My name is Marcus Kane, and I am a councilman.” Clarke views him with apathy leaning towards distaste. Kane and Abby clashed quite a bit on the council, and Clarke tends to view him as difficult out of loyalty.

“My name is Abby Griffin. I am a doctor on the Ark, and well as a councilwoman.”

“We all know why we are here,” Jaha begins. “It has been decided that it is time to return to earth. This council has been banded in the hopes that this can become a reality.”

“Drop ships won’t work,” Raven pipes in immediately. “I’ve run the numbers. We don’t have enough ships to fit everyone, or the resources to build more.”

Clarke does not miss Sinclair’s proud smile. 

“Then there must be another way,” Lexa urges.

“If there is, we’ll find it,” Abby promises.

“What if we didn’t need drop ships? What if we dropped the Ark itself?” Clarke suggests.

The room falls silent for a moment, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

“We’d have to run some simulations. I’m not sure if the Ark would survive.” Sinclair says.

“Then run the simulations,” Clarke snaps. “We’re wasting our time with this meeting unless we have information.”

Raven rises. “I’m on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Raven Reyes the best person ever?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. Better late than never, right?  
> In the midst of SDCC, let's add some more Clexa into the mix!

***Clarke’s POV***

“Is Lexa coming?” Raven glances up from the computer for the first time since Clarke entered the room.

“She said she’d be here.” From the short time Clarke has known Lexa, she’s gathered that is most unlike her to be late. It’s putting Clarke on edge.

“I don’t want to get too into the simulations Sinclair and I ran until she gets here.”

“That’s fine. We can wait.” Clarke pauses. “Why did you call only Lexa and I down here though?”

Raven shrugs. “I just figured you guys would want to see it first. I get the feeling that you two like to stay at least three steps ahead of everyone else.”

“That’s what got us here, isn’t it?” Lexa enters the room with an unusually dramatic flourish. Clarke swears Lexa has changed since the revolution. A fire has lit inside her. And Clarke loves it.

“Better late than never,” Raven mumbles.

Lexa blushes, a hint of her old modesty coming through. “I kept getting stopped on the  way here. I’ve been receiving a lot of questions that we don’t have the answers to yet.”

“Well, hopefully this can answer some of them. Watch this,” Raven gestures for them to come closer, which they do.

“Sinclair and I ran some simulations after that meeting. Mostly we just kept getting caught up on the drop ships, just double checking to make sure it wasn’t possible. But then we thought back to what you said, Clarke. Dropping the Ark as a whole. The simulations pretty quickly ruled that out. Only a very small percentage of the Ark would be able to survive.”

“And can your simulations determine which parts? Because if we can isolate those sections, then we can find a way to separate them and launch.” Lexa suggests, leaning forward to watch numbers fly by on the screen. There’s lots of diagrams Clarke can only vaguely begin to comprehend, but Lexa seems to be able to make sense of some of it.

“We can try, but there’s so many variables, there’s no way to be positive.”

“We’ll present it to the council this afternoon, and decide then. But I see no better option.” Lexa says.

Clarke dips her head in a nod. “I agree. It might be the best option we’ve got.” 

* * * * *

“So what you’re telling me is people will die no matter what we do?” Abby leans forward in her chair, shooting a pointed glare at Sinclair.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Our ancestors screwed us over, Abby. They never planned far enough ahead to anticipate returning to earth.”

“How could they? It’s been soaked in radiation for nearly a century,” Kane pipes in.

“They couldn’t have. Regardless of their intentions, they screwed us over nonetheless. Everyone will die if we stay on the Ark. Most of us will die if we try to launch the entire Ark. Most of us will die if we use drop ships. Some of us will die if we separate the Ark and launch the pieces. You all can take your pick.” Sinclair rubs his temples.

“And there’s no other way?” Jaha prompts.

“That’s what we told you, isn’t it?” Raven snaps. “Do you want to run the calculations yourself?”

“I would like to see them,” Jaha admits.

Raven scoffs. “Suit yourself. Come find me whenever. But if Sinclair and I couldn’t find another way, I doubt your untrained eye could, Chancellor.” She spits the last word.

Jaha slams his hand on the table, causing everyone at the table to jump a little. “Enough, Raven. I will not be spoken to like a child, nor will I tolerate disrespect. I am still your Chancellor.”

“You may be the Chancellor, but Lexa and I are in charge now,” Clarke’s voice is steely. She’s scary enough that everyone at the table falls silent, gaping at her for a moment. But Lexa doesn’t miss a beat.

“We cannot underestimate anyone’s power at this point. Clarke and I control the people. Sinclair and Raven control the Ark, and ultimately, everything else. They hold the true power, with everyone’s lives at their mercy of their knowledge. And if they say there’s no other way, then there isn’t. You may state your opinion, Chancellor, but you are not the only one allowed to have an opinion anymore.”

Jaha clears his throat, no doubt taking the moment to collect himself. Of course he can’t touch Lexa or Clarke. He doesn’t hold the cards, and everyone is calling his bluff.

“If there’s no other way, then very well. But you two,” Jaha juts his chin at Lexa and Clarke, “can explain this decision to the citizens of the Ark. Tell them why their wives and children must die.”

A sudden rage fills Clarke. She’s trying so hard to work with Jaha, to play nice, but he’s making it so hard. 

“We can’t save everyone, Thelonious,” Abby whispers, almost to herself. 

“Fine. Then we’ll have our leaders announce our decision tonight.”

* * * * *

“Rest assured, we have run every simulation. We have considered every possibility. And this plan has the lowest mortality rate. Unfortunately, that rate is not at zero, but that’s impossible. Part of us knew it from the beginning. Just because humanity will return to earth, doesn’t mean every single one of us will.” Clarke looks anxiously into the crowd, looking for any trace of emotion, any sign of outrage. All she can see is Wells, shaking his head in the very front. 

A boy, not much older than Clarke, rises. To her surprise, Raven is wrapped around his arm. “If I die, then fine. But is there a guarantee at least some of us will make it?”

“Yes,” Lexa cuts in. Clarke shoots her a look. How can she make such a promise?”

“Then honor our dead,” the boy says, “and have a grave on earth for us.”

* * * * *

“How could you say that some of us will survive? Even Raven said we can’t know for sure. Nothing is a given in this scenario,” Clarke demands as soon as the crowd is gone, and it’s just Lexa and Clarke, alone.

“If we all die, then no one will ever know of my broken promise, will they?” Lexa’s eyes meet Clarke’s, and it feels like a challenge.

“I just thought that you would be more noble than that.”

“I am doing what it takes to survive, day by day.”

“How can only surviving day by day lead to any sort of future?”

“The next day always comes, doesn’t it?”

Clarke doesn’t have a good answer, and suddenly she’s too tired to fight. Lexa is probably right. This is what is best for the people, even if it involves some over inflated confidence.

“I don’t want to talk about this. But can you honestly promise me something?”

“Anything.” Lexa doesn’t even bat an eye, as if keeping a promise to Clarke would be the easiest thing in the world.

“On our last night on the Ark, have dinner with me. Like a real date. They used to do things like that, a long time ago.”

Lexa breaks into a warm smile, one Clarke has never seen before. “Of course.”


	15. Chapter 15

***Clarke’s POV***

“I think we could be ready to launch in a few days, honestly. One day to check the original math, another to see which parts of the Ark would survive the wreck, then a third to get everything else ready,” Raven rattles off.

“So soon?” Lexa asks in disbelief.

“I was under the impression that we didn’t have any time to waste.”

Lexa clears her throat. “We don’t. It’s just strange to think… In a few days, we could be on earth.”

“Or dead,” Clarke mutters darkly. Lexa shoots her a glare.

“It’s worth a shot,” Raven shrugged, seemingly unfazed at the possibility of death. She’s probably just excited for a new challenge.

“So our next move should be to fill in the rest of the Council, then the general public. Make that launch date official. If we don’t announce it, then there’s no way to hold us accountable for following through,” Clarke says. 

“I agree. We’ll call a meeting for the Council this afternoon,” Lexa says authoritatively. Clarke still can’t believe that this is the same timid guard she met all those weeks ago. Maybe it was months ago. Clarke can’t even tell anymore. More sensitive matters have been marking her time,

* * * * *

“Clarke!” Behind her, Wells jogs to catch up. Clarke whips around, feeling both comforted and anxious to find Wells joining her. The dynamic is so different now. Literally everything has changed.

“Hey Wells,” Clarke greets stiffly. She scolds herself for sounding so cold. This was (is?) her best friend. After all these years, Wells deserves a little more credit.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, you know. Since this whole thing started.” Clarke hates the way he calls this a ‘thing’, as if it’s hardly of importance. 

“I was under the impression that you wanted nothing to do with me.” She can’t help the bitterness that trickles into her voice. She stills remembers Wells barrelling down the hallway yelling at her, Wells shaking his head in the front row as Clarke proposed her plan. Wells fighting her every step of the way, as if he knew better. 

“You’re my best friend, Clarke. I want to know where your head is at. Maybe I haven’t been there like I should’ve, but you gotta understand, you’ve been causing a lot of trouble.”

“None of this is my fault. It’s the Ark itself. It’s dying. If you want to blame someone, blame your father for trying to keep this all a secret.”

Wells holds up his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture. “I didn’t come here to fight, okay? I’m not taking sides.” Ah, but he already did. “It’s just weird, you know? One day we’re playing chess, the next day you’re vandalizing the Ark and calling all the shots.”

“I’m not doing it alone,” She reminds him. “Lexa…. Commander Woods… She’s a leader in this too.”

Wells frowns, as if he was hoping that they could keep her out of this. “You guys have gotten to be good friends, huh?”

“More than friends,” She clarifies. Wells’s face drops, and so does Clarke’s heart. She hates hurting him like this. Deep down, she always knew he was in love with her. And she cared about him deeply. But not in the way she cares about Lexa.

“Oh.” Wells says shortly. Then he laughs mirthlessly. “I thought all the lying hurt. But man, this blows.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke offers, trying very hard to play nice. Wells is still her friend. They grew up together. She owes him this apology. Not for Lexa. But for the lying. For the grief. For the sneaking around. She hasn’t been a very good friend.

But that isn’t what he uses against her. Wells looks at her with sad eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to keep you out of trouble.”

“We’re all in trouble,” Clarke says, making an active effort to sound gentle. “I’m just trying to save us.”

“Maybe,” Wells says vaguely. But it somehow fills in all the gaps of what he’s trying to say. Maybe you’ll succeed. Maybe you’re not trying to save us at all. Maybe you’ll destroy us. Maybe you’re right.

“I’ll see you later, Wells,” Clarke walks away then, knowing she offered him no closure or answers, and she’s leaving with none herself. But there’s bound to be some loose ends in the equation. You don’t always get the ending you wanted. Jake taught her that.

* * * * *

“I talked to Wells today,” Clarke offers once she and Lexa are alone after the Council meeting, lounging in Lexa’s apartment.

Lexa looks up, immediately concerned. But not for the reasons Clarke thought she would be. “Are you okay?”

“He said I’m just causing trouble.”

Lexa smiles a little. “Well, you are. But for a worthy cause.”

“You think I’m doing the right thing?” Clarke cannot believe how weak she sounds. She hates it.

“Of course I do,” Lexa assures. She takes Clarke’s hand in her own. “You changed the whole system, Clarke. You broke down the walls. You started a conversation. You did all of this, just to save us.”

“We,” Clarke corrects softly, “We did it.”

“Modesty doesn’t suit you.”

“What does? My stubborness?” Clarke teases.

“No,” Lexa says seriously. “Your strength. Your intelligence. Your selflessness. That’s why I… That’s why you’re you,” Lexa finishes lamely. She flushes bright pink.

But Clarke can read between the lines. And she loves Lexa for those same reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little bit of fluff to make up for the long time it took me to update. Hopefully you all accept this peace offering for my poor time management


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the worst when it comes to updates recently, but I have excuses! Vacation, gearing up for my first year of college...
> 
> Anyway, we probably have about three chapters of 'Painting in Red' left. After this, I hope to embark on another Clexa fic, most likely a modern AU. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support (and patience). As usual, let me know what you think!

***Clarke’s POV***

“Don’t forget, get some rest. Everyone has to be on their A game tomorrow,” Raven locks eyes with Clarke in particular. 

She shrugs. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

Raven frowns. “Don’t be like that. Science is on our side.”

There’s a long moment of silence, mostly because Clarke doesn’t know how to respond. Or rather, she doesn’t know how to respond in such a way that will leave Raven not worried about her.

“I feel like there should’ve been one more Council meeting,” Clarke says finally.

“Why? Do you have something to say?”

Clarke leans back in her chair. “I guess not. But it feels like most of this process has been you, me, Lexa, and Sinclair. I never meant to cut Jaha out of the equation.”

“That reminds me. What’s Abby think of all of this? I was interested to hear her take on things.”

“I think she’s come around. When my dad first found out the Ark was dying, she didn’t want him to go public. But I think she knows now that it was the right thing. And she’s ready to see what earth has for us.”

“Aren’t we all,” Raven scoffs. She pauses. “Your mom is a good person, Clarke. Try to keep her in the loop too.”

Clarke thinks of Lexa, of the launch tomorrow, of Wells. She hasn’t been very candid with her mother recently. “I’ll try.”

* * * * *

“Where are you going, Clarke? Tomorrow is a big day.” Abby calls from the couch as Clarke heads for the door.

“I need to get away for a while. Just take it all in,” Clarke responds.

“With Lexa?” Abby asks conversationally.

Clarke bites her lip. “Yeah, with Lexa.” She almost starts to say more, then stops herself.

“You two are really making up for lost time, huh?” Abby says conversationally. She’s more perceptive than Clarke gives her credit for.

Clarke swallows. “I really care about her.” That’s all she’s willing to admit out loud, for now.

Abby nods. “I always thought it would be you and Wells. But seeing you and Lexa, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”

A huge weight is lifted off Clarke’s shoulders. She wasn’t particularly worried about Abby’s reaction. Or anyone’s, for that matter. But that validation, that acknowledgment of their bond, it feels good.

Clarke leans down to give Abby an uncharacteristic hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow, mom. I love you.”

Abby smiles. “I love you too. Forever.”

***Lexa’s POV***

Somehow, Clarke arrives at the window before she does. She’s toying with her father’s watch, a habit she was quick to pick up after he was floated. It’s strange to see Clarke fiddling.  Lexa has always seen her as stoic. Strong. But the way she plays with the watch is so human. So beautiful.

Clarke looks up as soon as she hears Lexa approach. She offers a small smile. “I never thought I’d beat you here.”

“Evidently you were quite eager,” Lexa teases lightly. Tonight, somehow, nothing hurts. Everything is fine. They’re lives are about to change forever, but for now, they’re frozen in time. In the place where they first kissed.

“I’ve never been on a real date before,” Clarke confesses, beaming. “They don’t really happen these days.”

“Costia loved doing things the old fashioned way. She knew all these little customs they used to do on earth.” Usually talking about Costia makes Lexa feel like she’s been stabbed in the heart. Tonight, all she feels is a light pinch in her chest, which she ignores. Tonight is about her and Clarke.

“So how do these things work?” Clarke asks, a little wide eyed. It’s incredibly endearing. Normally she’s so hardened. Beautiful. Tonight she’s just adorable.

“I’m taking you to dinner, like I said.” Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand, but spares one final glance at earth before she turns away from the window. One last look.

“I’ve set up in the dining hall. No one is patrolling there tonight,” Lexa explains, quietly leading Clarke through the hallways.

“Why not?” She furrows her eyebrows.

Lexa smiles widely. “One of the guards owed me a favor.”

This causes Clarke to break into a smile too, and Lexa relishes in it all the way to the dining hall. 

Lexa went through more trouble than she cared to admit to in regards to setting up. She had a lacy tablecloth she had saved from her mother. She swiped whatever food she could. She tried to get candles too, but those weren’t easy to come by.

“What’s this?” Clarke asks, picking up a bottle.

Lexa flushes a little. “Alcohol. Wine, actually. It was hard to find, but they used to use it for celebrations.”

Clarke pulls Lexa in for a chaste kiss. Quick and sweet. “It’s perfect,” She confides.

They settle in, and Lexa pours a glass of wine for both her and Clarke. It’s bitter, but warms her to her core. After the initial sip to test it, Clarke raises her glass.

“To second chances,” She proclaims, eyes bright.

Lexa clinks her own glass against it. She feels herself smile so wide it hurts her cheeks. “To second chances.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all have time to mentally prepare yourselves, this will be the second to last chapter. I'll be posting an epilogue within the next few days. Watch out at the end for a very special announcement regarding my next work!
> 
> Thank you all for reading each chapter and still somehow coming back for more. I'm so grateful for the attention this fic has received, and each comment made me smile. You guys are the reason I kept writing, and will continue to write Clexa.

***Clarke’s POV***

“Okay everyone, so here’s how this is going to work. Raven and I have divided different parts of the Ark into sectors. Each person is to report to their sectors within the hour. We want to launch within the next two hours or so. If there’s any questions, you can ask me, Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin, or Lexa Woods. Thank you,” Sinclair ducks his head and steps off the makeshift podium. Clarke can’t help but feel a little proud that Sinclair didn’t name Jaha as a leader. She knows it’s childish, but she’ll take what she can get.

“Are you ready for this? Lexa nudges Clarke with her shoulder.

“I started it. I might as well finish it.”

“Are you nervous?” Lexa’s eyebrows knit together. Clarke knows she’s trying to read her.

“I don’t think so. No matter how today ends for me, I know I did the right thing for my people. And someone will reap the benefits.”

“You’re too selfless,” Lexa says softly.

“If I were selfless, then I wouldn’t have had you risk your life to help me on this whole mess.”

“You saved everyone, Clarke.” She pauses, her eyes piercing. “Especially me.”

Clarke almost says that she in fact did not save everyone. She couldn’t save Jake. And no one saved Costia. No one saved them the heartbreak. But Clarke doesn’t want to turn the conversation into their losses. Today is about victory. Especially personal ones.

“You did it, Lexa. I just held your hand and watched you be strong.”

Lexa pulls Clarke in for a kiss. It’s not until she pulls away that Clarke realizes that they’d never been so affectionate in public. Lexa must be feeling especially bold.

“There’s one more thing I need to do before we launch,” Clarke murmurs as soon as she’s caught her breath. 

“How can I help?” Lexa says immediately. 

Clarke smiles. “Stand guard.”

* * * * *

Lexa had insisted she stop at her apartment before they go on Clarke’s mission, which she’d explained on the way. Lexa was in and out before Clarke could even think to step in and see what she was doing.

“Let’s go,” Lexa says, cheeks burning.

Together they find an empty hallway, one with a long wall. Clarke drops to her knees, fishing her art supplies out of her pocket. Chalk and of course, a small tube of red paint. 

She closes her eyes for a moment, remembering. And then she draws. His messy hair. The wrinkles around his eyes from smiling. His trademark boyish grin. She continues along to his torso, taking special care at the watch around his wrist. Clarke pointedly ignores the tears running down her face at that point, and Lexa wisely remains silent. Finally, Clarke steps back.

“It’s beautiful,” Lexa says. “It looks just like him.”

Clarke nods. If there’s one picture that matters, it’s this one. Her final one as the Artist.

Lexa clears her throat. “I was wondering… If you could add them.” Lexa pulls out two photographs from her pocket. First she points to a young woman with long blonde hair and a big smile. “My mother.” Then she points to a serious looking man with dark hair and a sturdy build.  “And my father.” She shifts to the next picture. The girl is laughing. Her brown hair is down to her waist, seemingly having a life of its own. She’s petite, but clearly full of energy. “And Costia.” Lexa shifts her gaze to Clarke. “It’s the only pictures I have of them but… Would you draw them?”

Clarke doesn’t hesitate. She takes the pictures and sets to work. She ensures each person is smiling, eyes shining. When she glances back at Lexa, she’s surprised to find her misty eyed. 

“It’s perfect,” Lexa says finally, voice cracking.

Clarke puts a dot of red paint on her finger, and puts her signature infinity sign at the bottom. When she’s done, she steps back, wrapping her arm around Lexa.

“Raven said this part of the Ark will stay in orbit,” She says. “So they’ll stay up here, smiling. Maybe we’ll be able to see them on earth.” She presses a kiss to Lexa’s forehead. “Either way, we’ll know they’re there. Always.”

Lexa pulls Clarke in for a tearful kiss. It’s bittersweet, but Clarke tries to just focus on the sweet. The shape of Lexa’s lips. The color of her eyes. She tries to memorize everything. 

***Lexa’s POV***

Lexa spares one more glance at Clarke’s drawing. Of everything she’s lost. Of everything she’s had to leave behind. Then she glances back at Clarke, who hasn’t yet noticed that Lexa isn’t following. Lexa watches her walk, paving her path to the future. And then Lexa wipes her tears, and jogs to catch up. Their hands intertwine automatically, magnetically. And suddenly the Ark isn’t big enough to hold them anyway.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you... The final chapter of Painting in Red! This is quite honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I am very pleased with the reactions it's been met with! So a huge thank you to everyone who stuck with it, and especially those who commented chapter after chapter. Each comment made my day!

***One Year Later***

Clarke walks into the dropship, unsure of what to expect. This morning before she left for her guard shift, Lexa had been very suspicious. She’d been very adamant about Clarke meeting her inside the dropship at seven o’clock that night. Clarke just hopes she isn’t in trouble.

She clambers up to the top of the dropship, where she’d agreed to meet Lexa. Immediately she is met with the soft, warm glow of tens, maybe hundreds, of candles. There’s an area cleared in the center, and there’s Lexa, sitting with her legs crossed, casual as can be, beaming.

Clarke laughs in surprise. “What is this?”

“Come, sit,” Lexa invites. “I have something for you.”

Clarke obeys, making her way to Lexa, careful not to knock over any candles. Clarke moves to sit down, but Lexa rises to meet her. 

“Clarke… After my parents died, after Costia died… I never thought I’d be happy again. But then you and your vandalism came along, and you made things possible that I never even dreamed of. You changed the system. You brought us to earth. You’re likely to be the next chancellor before you’re even thirty… And you made me smile again. You make the impossible possible.” Lexa shifts to get down on one knee. She produces a ring, which she offers to Clarke. It’s a simple silver band, with a telltale infinity symbol etched into the inner part of it. Clarke blinks back tears, and smiles wider every second. “Raven helped me make it. People on earth used to give rings to their lovers when they wanted to marry them. Can you make that possible too? Will you marry me, Clarke?”

Clarke gently pulls Lexa to her feet, and slides the ring on her finger. “A simple yes doesn’t seem adequate,” Clarke admits.

“It’s perfect,” Lexa murmurs, and they join for a long kiss. A kiss that burns brighter than any candle in the room. 

“I love you,” Both girls admit at the same time once they’ve parted. And they both laugh. Because of course they said it at the same time. They’re so in tune, their heartbeats have synced. Why wouldn’t their words?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for my announcement regarding my next Clexa endeavor... 
> 
> I will be doing another social media collab with tumblr user (and best friend) crazyqueerfrenchfry! This time as a full length fic, coming very soon! I know Emily is eager to start her social media AU portion, which I'll link when I post my first chapter. I've begun writing, and I hope to post it soon!
> 
> The fic will be entitled 'Knockout', and, as the title hints at, will feature Underground Fighter Lexa (known under the fighting alias Heda), and Nursing Student Clarke. Adventure, romance, and drama will naturally ensue. I hope you all will check it out!
> 
> Also, I don't know if anyone cares, but my tumblr user name is figuratively--literal. If you guys want, I can post updates regarding when updates will be coming, etc. And I can take requests for Clexa one shots you might like to see me do. So that's a thing that can happen, if you wish. Someone start the ball rolling! (I say not at all desperately)
> 
> Okay this end note has gone on long enough. Thanks to anyone who made it this far, and may we meet again.


End file.
